- Alex -
hen I offered to chaperone the water aerobics class, I assumed someone would have some trunks I could borrow. I thought wrong. Things looked even worse when I began scouring the lost and found for some shorts that might do the trick.
“How about this?”
I looked over my shoulder to find Gemma holding up a black Speedo with the tags still on it.
“What is that?”
“It’s a Speedo,” she said, shaking it between her pinched fingers.
“I see that. I meant, why are you showing it to me?”
“Because I thought you were looking for a suit.”
“Where did that even come from?”
“It was in a box in the office labeled ‘junk from sales reps.’”
I blinked at it and questioned how committed I was to our newly hatched plan. “Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate?”
“Only if you have a crush on one of the girls in the class.”
“Very funny.”
“Your call,” she said. “But the class starts in ten minutes, so it’s either this or plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”
“That’s for you to figure out if you’re too insecure to wear the suit.”
“I’m not insecure,” I said, grabbing it and cringing at how little fabric filled my fist. “I’m just not an exhibitionist.”
“Shame,” she said, her eyes flicking down my body. “Thought I might join you for a swim later.”
My ears perked up.
“But if you want to scrap the plan…”
I ground my teeth together. “I suppose I could try it on.”
“Thanks,” she said, patting my shoulder. “I really appreciate you doing this.”
I opened my mouth to object, but it was too late. She’d already assumed compliance and walked off.
Hurrying to the men’s room, I ripped the tag off with my teeth before stepping between two rows of lockers to slip the suit on. It was as obnoxiously tight as I feared.
Not that I looked bad in it, but still. The fact that I took care of myself didn’t mean I liked having every detail of my family jewels on display.
“Yo, Alex,” André called into the locker room. “How’s the suit?”
“Who’s asking?” I said as he came around the corner.
He brought a fist to his mouth and burst out laughing, his shoulders bouncing like a hyena’s.
“What’s so funny?”
“Man, that is messed up.”
I grabbed a fresh towel from a shelf at the end of the lockers and wrapped it around my waist.
“Not that you don’t wear it well.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What there is of it.”
“Very funny.”
“Should I tell Gemma you’re good to go?”
I squinted at him. “She send you in here to check?”
“She didn’t send me to help you tuck in your balls.”
I groaned. “Make sure you tell her she owes me for this.”
“Got it.” He turned around but then kept turning until he was facing me again.
“What?”
“You might want to get in the water before the blue rinse brigade shows up.”
I furrowed my brow.
“Unless you know how to reset a pacemaker.”
“You done?”
“Assuming you can keep everything where it’s supposed to be,” he said, waving his hands towards my lower half. “I swear I’ll never mention this again.”
“I look forward to that,” I said as he skipped out, unable to hide how thrilled he was to not be in my shoes. Or suit, rather.
I closed my stuff in a locker and looked over my shoulder when I heard someone clear their throat. When I saw it was Mr. Edwards, I felt a little better. Not because I was looking forward to treading water next to the guy but because at least I hadn’t wedged myself into this penis pocket in vain. “You here for water aerobics?” I asked, securing the cheap lock I’d borrowed from the front desk.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“You like it that much? It’s my first time.”
“Oh yes,” he said, keeping his eyes on the inside of his open locker. “Can’t beat it.”
“Do you do it mostly for cardio benefits or—?”
“You could say that.”
“Excuse me?”
“It gets my heart rate up, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said, glancing at me.
I forced a smile and headed for the door to the pool.
“And my dick, if I’m not careful.”
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I said, daring him to repeat it.
“Never mind.” He hung his shirt on a hook before loosening his belt. “See you on deck.”
I was already convinced the girls had been telling the truth. After all, only a fucking pervert mentions their dick to a complete stranger. Unfortunately, we couldn’t ban the guy for locker room talk. I had to witness a more public offense in order to blacklist him.
The thick smell of warm chlorine flooded my nose as I strode onto the pool deck, and after greeting the instructor and explaining that I’d be participating at the back of the class, I walked down the half-submerged steps into the shallow end.
A few of the older women noticed me right away, but they kept talking amongst themselves, so I was confident no one was going to faint if I tried to lift a knee.
Sure enough, Mr. Edwards made his way over to me when he got in, which was fortunate because it meant I wouldn’t have to be obvious about my reason for auditing the class.
The instructor announced that we should begin with some gentle stretching while we waited for any stragglers, so the class members began spacing themselves out.
Mr. Edwards, however, seemed preoccupied with the door to the women’s locker room. “Now we’re talking,” he mumbled when the two younger women arrived.
They were both wearing sporty blue swimsuits, and the blonde one’s face dropped as soon as she saw the man she’d accused of harassment only a week ago.
I couldn’t tell from so far away, but it almost seemed like they physically hesitated to approach the pool as they whispered between one another.
“Let’s go!” a husky-voiced woman shouted from the front row. “Some of us are dying here!”
The girls slipped into the pool and found a space as far away from him as possible.
For the next twenty minutes, Mr. Edwards never took his eyes off them. On the plus side, my disgust with his leering made me forget the self-consciousness I felt over my snug suit and my lack of aerobics aptitude.
A few exaggerated side steps later, right when I began to worry that he wasn’t going to give me the evidence I needed, I caught him adjusting himself for the second time.
“Psst,” he hissed at me as he curled his arms underwater.
I raised my eyebrows in his direction.
“See that girl in the blue suit?”
“Which one?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.
“Over by the side there.”
I pretended to look for a second. “Yeah.”
“You think those are C cups or D’s that she’s got?”
I clenched my jaw. How dare he creep on people in my gym?
“I can’t quite tell, and I’m afraid to ask her.”
“Ask her?” Was he for real?
“Yeah.” He scrunched his face. “I asked her something last week, and she got all offended.”
I strained to keep the irritation from my voice. “What did you ask her?”
“I asked her if she would sit on my face,” he said, his mouth expanding into a big toothy grin. “Like she does in my dreams.”
“You said that to her?”
“Twice,” he said. “But I think she was lying when she said she didn’t hear me the first time.”
“Get out.”
“No, really, I did. You should’ve seen her face.”
“No, really,” I said. “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out of the pool.”